Scar-Happy
by MoreRefinedThanMost
Summary: PruCan Established relationship. BDSM and LIGHT bloodplay. Matt and Gil have a D/s relationship that exists on the weekends, but Gil's job has gotten in the way of them doing anything for the last three weeks. Matt might just do something about that. Chapters feature kinks by request. Latest chapter: hot wax and edgeplay. Aftercare will be next. Story will continue.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is my first PruCan. I will make any changes my readers feel are necessary to better capture their relationship dynamic. I hope this isn't too slow of a start. Next chapter(s) will be smut.**

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><p>The trademark sigh immediately made Matthew's teeth clench.<p>

"What we have isn't a 24/7 thing, Mattie. It gets... exhausting. And I love it and I love you and I'm sorry that I've been working so late at the office... I'm just tired."

Matthew extinguished the flicker of guilt he felt. It takes two to form a relationship. Lately, it felt as though he were the only one interested. He assumed his position standing behind the couch and helped Gil pull his shirt over his head. He looked at the tense, corded flesh drawn over broad shoulders and set his hands on either side of the man's neck, beginning the painstaking task of loosening knots that did not want to be loosened.

"Mmmm..." Gilbert hung his head, releasing a few grateful noises.

Matthew wasn't fazed. His eyes were hardened, and his jaw was clenched tighter than a bear trap. "Are you bored with me?" he asked in a chillingly soft voice, and just like that, any progress he had made on the tight muscles in Gilbert's shoulders disappeared.

He glanced over his shoulder at the blond with strawberry red eyes. "Never. Don't ever suggest that again, Matthew."

He couldn't help but flinch at the harshness in Gilbert's tone. It made a few curls of heat form in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, how aren't I supposed to think that, eh? I hardly see you and when you come home all you do is eat and go to bed. And you're gone before I ever wake up. I don't appreciate it. Makes me feel like maybe there's someone else..."

Gilbert outright glared. "There isn't anyone else. But if you keep on like this there _will_ be."

Matthew growled. He grabbed Gilbert's hair and gave it a sharp tug, something he knew Gil hated.

"Watch it," Gil warned.

Matthew looked down on him defiantly. Slowly, Gilbert stood and turned to face him, muscles rippling in a silent threat.

This.

This was what Matthew wanted. He wanted Gil to feel as angry as he did, and to channel it into... Something.

The blond crossed his arms and stood his ground. "I've done everything right, everything we've agreed on." He eyed the narrow, whisker-like scars on the albino's left bicep.

It felt as if his arm were on fire, and Gilbert placed a protective hand on it, covering the area. They stood there quietly, staring each other down.

"If you're not bored with me, prove it."

Gilbert shook his head. "You're not doing everything right. Take right now for example. Challenging me and disrespecting me."

Matthew reddened. "Then do something about it," he spluttered. He whipped his shirt off and threw it aside, where it landed over in their disorganized pile of shoes by the door.

Gilbert watched him with scrutiny, seemingly unimpressed.

Matthew wasn't sure what he had been planning to do, but he realized that he had been subconsciously onto something. He slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting the denim sag around his hips. In a smooth, confident voice he said, "Look at all of my skin..."

The Prussian quirked a brow at this.

He continued. "You've called it perfect so many times... and you've left mark after mark after mark on me..."

The male licked his lips, mouth going dry, infra-red eyes trained on the blond's every movement. He felt a stirring in his lower stomach.

"And they always went away, didn't they? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were always a little disappointed... All of them, gone... All but this..." He exposed his hip bone, where there were a few narrow scratches, turned silver from the scar tissue.

Now Gilbert was impatient. "What are you getting at Matt? I've got better things to do than watch you strip like some common whore."

Matt's eyes fell closed and he licked his lips. Those curls of heat in the pit of his stomach were spreading now, and just with those words, the Canadian was half-hard. "I remember saying once that I didn't want permanent markings—"

"Don't remind me," Gil interjected curtly.

Matt placed on a hand on his hip, head tilted condescendingly to the side. "I'm sorry, Sir. Did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?"

The albino pinkened in his cheeks.

"Yeah. As I was saying. What if I let you? What if I let you, just for tonight..." He walked slowly backwards, pausing when he bumped into the kitchen island, and reached into a drawer. He pulled out a knife, still in the case, clearly new, and looked at it in his hand. "What if I let you draw a little blood."

When he looked up, Gilbert was right in front of him. "Basement."

Matthew let a devious grin grace his face. He slowly sank to his knees, head bowed. "Sir."

Gilbert nudged the other with his shoe and snapped his fingers, pointing to the basement door. "Do I need to say it again?"

Matt looked up at him, pupils dilated to orbs. Then he was off like a rocket, running across the kitchen and throwing open the basement door, bracing his hands on the walls as he ran down the stairs.

He'd left the knife on the counter, for Gil.

Gil picked it up. It was nothing short of a fancy scalpel, but to Gil, it wasn't a knife, it was a paint brush— and the only color he painted so precisely in was ruby red.

He reflected for a few moments, feeling the guilt that he should for neglecting Matt in this way. They knew this wasn't going to be an all the time ordeal, but it was to be expected at least once a week, if not more.

It had been about a three weeks since they'd last screwed around, and he knew that when he descended those stairs, he will have been granted full permission to be as wild as he wanted, and he would be able to release all of his pent up frustrations and channel it into one body.

And Matt would fucking like it, so help him.

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><p><strong>AN: How'd I do?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Buckle in, people.**

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><p>Nothing ever prepared him for how cold the bench felt on his chest. His nipples hardened as he lay over it, and Matthew was grateful that his pants were still in tact as the other male strapped him down. Being restrained like this wasn't what frightened him, however.<p>

It was the fear of the unknown.

The blindfold and earplugs kept him from knowing what was happening around him, and while he'd known what he was doing in the kitchen, the change that happened when Gil descended that staircase meant that Matt would be seeing a new side of him— _every time_— and that made him a little more unsure of himself.

He felt warm, callused fingertips run along his spine, worn from years of his best friend teaching him guitar, and just feeling that on his skin had Matt breaking out into goosebumps.

Then the fingers in his hair, so sweet, so gentle, that the blond knew it could only be a prelude of what was to come. He could faintly hear a low rumble through the plugs, and instinct told him that Gil was speaking, but the words were lost.

"...Never needed to prove myself so badly," Gil murmured, all but worshipping every bit of the Canadian's exposed skin. He slowly nudged his fingers under the waistband of Matt's jeans and relished the gasp he heard. He peeked at Matthew's face, and Gil worried that the other was biting his lip so hard it would bleed. He reached over and caressed his cheek, thumb moving to gently pull on what bit of pink flesh hadn't made it between the blond's teeth.

"Don't do that," Gil said softly, and when the other didn't relent, he pulled again. "Let go."

Matt knew what Gil was getting at, but he needed to do this, to be quiet. He felt pressure suddenly release in his ear, and then warm breath.

"We soundproofed this basement for a reason, Mattie. Let me hear you," he coaxed as his lips brushed over the shell of the other's ear. The plug was quickly replaced, and once Matt had done as told, Gil fused their mouths together, running his tongue over the blond's lower lip where it would soon be raw.

The angle was tough, as Matthew was laying face down with his head turned to the side, but it didn't take away from the intimacy of the kiss.

In this room, kissing was a rare and kind reward, and, on occasion, a bribe.

Gil replaced his hand on Matthew's lower back, again pushing them under the blond's jeans and boxers. He kept an eye fixed on Matt's face, watching as he rubbed over his left ass cheek. Matt's face reddened, and he twitched, as squirming was nigh impossible, tied to the bench as he was.

"Gil..." he breathed, shaking from what bit of contact there was.

The corner of the Prussian's mouth tilted up.

He gave the plump flesh a squeeze and was washed in heat as he heard a thin moan. The knife burned in his back pocket where it strained against his work trousers. "Where to do it..." he mumbled, pulling Matt's pants down lower to expose all of his ass. He kneeled there for a moment, just letting his hands roam.

A bead of sweat slid down the other's temple. His heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know. _He didn't know_. Had he changed his mind? He knew Gil became easily distracted— maybe the man had become too caught up in the idea of finally doing what he wanted.

"Gil," he urged, "this isn't fair."

Gil threw a glare at him, which he knew Matt would only feel, and withdrew his hands, slowly standing. He crept through the room, over to the wardrobe, and opened it, taking his time looking through the selection of implements they'd accumulated. Minutes passed, and Matt whimpered softly.

"Gil...?" he called out tentatively. Had he left? He shivered slightly from the cold and strained to listen. "Fuck! Gil, don't leave me down here!" Yes, he'd known better than to say what he had, but he'd said it and this was a punishment he couldn't take. A shrill note of panic crept into his voice. He could handle a lot of things...

Being exposed.

Tied town.

Taken without a considerate thought in his direction.

Being burnt.

Doing holds until he just couldn't take it anymore and enduring the embarrassment of an _accident_ in front of the only person who mattered.

But this?

This was too much.

Vulnerable, strapped down as if he were some maniacal lunatic, deaf and blind to the world around him, and alone...

And so he braced himself enough to say, "RED."

Gil's head darted up and he dropped the few things he'd been holding, jogging over to the bench and gently removing the ear plugs, untying the blindfold as quick as he could and kissingkissingkissing him so fervently and deeply he nearly choked him from lack of air and all Matt wanted to do was tell him it was okay because Gil was apologizing in the only way he knew how in this room but he couldn't even move away to do _that_.

He pushed against Gilbert's forehead with his own, closing his mouth to the other, doing what he could.

Gil pulled back, eyes wild with the fire of guilt and deepest screams of repentance.

"It's okay... I just need to at least hear you, baby, I got so worried that you... you left me like this down here and you weren't answering me."

"I-I..." He cleared his throat. "I got a little excited." He unstrapped Matt's left hand, and immediately it was on his face, caressing, and then sliding into his hair. "But you know I would _never_—"

"Fear knows no limits. You said that."

Gilbert nodded.

"I'll give you a green if you'll let me be face up, without the earplugs and blindfold. I'll even let you gag me."

His face lit up at that and he set to work unstrapping each of Matt's limbs and helping him to get off the bench. Matt disposed of his pants and boxers, which were now damp from precum. Gil licked his lips, and as the other stood before where he kneeled, the man leaned forward and planted a kiss on his hip, over where the narrow scratches were. Matt petted his hair and lay down again on the bench, relaxing his arms and legs so he could be strapped again.

Gil strapped all but Matt's left leg, stroking it with warm hands.

"A-aah..." All it took was the simplest of touches, and simply knowing that Gil liked being in constant contact with him like this, to make him—

A hand wrapped around the base of his cock, pinching tight. "No," Gil barked.

Matt moaned dejectedly. "You know I could do this all day, Sir, and it would only take me a minute to be ready for you again."

Gil shook his head and stood, walking to the cabinet and pulling out the horse bit gag. He brought it over, twirling it around his fingers and lifting Matt's head, He set it in place, nice and snug, and listened as Matt's teeth clenched around it. Matt looked pointedly at him and rolled his eyes. Gilbert knew him to be persuasive, and Matt knew the only true reason Gil "liked" to gag him was so that he himself wouldn't give in to Matt's oh so simple requests.

The pearl-white haired man looked at him smugly, acting as if _he _had won something. He pumped his hand up and down over the blond's erection, looking at him as if daring him to cum. "Don't," he said crisply, and Matt knew exactly what he meant.

Again, Gil pulled out the knife, turning it over in his hand. From the corner of his eye, he could see Matt's left leg bouncing up and down rapidly in an effort not to disobey, and it had the Prussian tighter in his pants than he'd ever been.

"_Mmmph...!_"

He chuckled, finally releasing his hold on the other and setting back to work on _deciding_ what part of this sprawling canvas to cover in paint. He kissed down Matthew's sternum, nose brushing almost lovingly over the area, and dipped his tongue into Matthew's navel.

"Unh!" Matthew brought his foot down hard, making a satisfying thump.

Gil looked at him deviously. "Oh, does that tickle?"

Even with the bit, he knew Matt was smiling. The blond nodded emphatically, and he laughed. "Maybe here, then?" he pondered aloud, tracing his narrow blade around the dip in Matt's skin.

Matt wasn't sure how to take that. Did he actually have an input on where? He tossed the idea around in his head. Gil had always had a fascination with his orifices, and that did not exclude his "beautiful" belly button, where the Prussian always dipped his tongue or finger. He nodded slowly, making an affirmative sound.

He toyed with one of Matt's nipples as he thought, deciding that a simple scrolling around half would suffice.

Matt watched the change in Gil's face, from contemplative lover to an artist with an obvious do-not-disturb sign flashing over his head.

Taking a deep breath, he strapped a restraint over the Canadian's torso, knowing that with the kind of art he enjoyed, it would mean a great dose of discomfort for the other. He turned the knife in his hand, holding it like a pen, and gently set the point into his skin, pushing down with steady pressure and sighing as the first red pearl beaded to the surface. Matt tensed beneath him, letting out a little whine. He stroked the blond's cock a few times to balance the feeling with pleasure, and then continued on, keeping one hand somewhere on the other's body to offer something pleasant as he went about his work, jaw set and brow furrowed.

Matt was nervous under his stare, worried that he might find some imperfection in this body that he loved, and would no longer want to adorn him.

"Relax," Gil said gruffly, caressing his hip. "You're perfect."

And just like that, any ounce of pain he would have felt was replaced with intense pleasure, and every ruby tear he shed, Gil licked away.

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><p><strong>AN: OH MY GOSH I AM SORRY. I said smut next. I don't think this counts. Do you see what happens when I try new things? I get real damn caught up. I've never written anything involving bloodplay/knifeplay. Yikes. I will try to contain myself in the next chapter.**

** Other than that, any thoughts? Or maybe ideas I can incorporate? I never see recommendations or specific requests as limiting my creativity**— **only a challenge that I can win! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I did my best to fulfill the two requests I received. One is clearly still a work in progress. Again, I will do just about anything you guys want.**

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><p>He watched the blond's chest rise and fall as he twitched on the bench. Matt hated any sort of bandage, and the square of gauze being tactfully applied with medical tape was no exception.<p>

"Mmmm!" he whined, feeling the nearly invisible hairs around his navel pull against it.

Gil placed kisses over each adhesive strip, rubbing the other's thigh. "You're so good, Matt..." he murmured, standing quietly and returning to the dropped pile of toys he'd abandoned earlier. He crouched and sifted through, turning a few promising items over in his hands.

"You've done something wonderful for me, and I want to reward you," he continued. "You deserve it." He was whispering now, face serene as he shuffled back over. The throbbing in his pants intensified, and Matt reached out his free leg to run the side of his foot up Gilbert's thigh.

Matt couldn't sit up well, and so couldn't see, but he could hear how Gil's voice caught in his throat, strained with the effort of holding back his pleasure.

"What do you have?" Matt tried to ask, but the bit made the words garbled, and all that really made its way out was a shoddy mess of vowels.

Gil laughed, and Matt chuckled at how stupid he'd sounded. "Hold on, babe." Gil leaned over him, kissing him deeply and quickly before unstrapping his arms, torso, and right leg. He massaged wrists and ankles and said casually, "What about two?"

Then he realized that the bit was still in tact, and like the good sport he was, Matt hadn't tried to remove it.

"...Tch..." He reached into the blond's hair and uncinched the bit, letting it drop in a saliva-coated mess onto the carpet under the bench.

Matt worked his jaw a bit, moving it from side to side and licking the corners of his lips, where they were surely red. "Two what?"

Gil smirked. He reached over the end of the bench and grabbed a rather long...

"Dildo?" Matt asked, nose crinkling and head tilting to the side. Gil trailed light fingers over Matthew's erection, listening to the wheels turn in the blond's head. "Why would I want that when I can have your cock instead?"

The albino laughed, blushing at the compliment.

"Speaking of," Matt said, slowly turning on the bench to swing a leg over Gilbert's lap. "You've pleasured me. Why not let me return the favor?" He worked the button of the male's trousers, not bothering to wait for permission. He wanted it.

"Matt, no, I meant, like... Like you could have me _and_ you can have this. Together... At the same time."

The Canadian chewed his lip. "U-Unh... Yeah..."

Gil cocked a brow. "I remember you saying once that I wasn't enough..." His red eyes darkened to the rose of fresh blood.

Matt gulped and squirmed, reaching down to squeeze himself. "Yeah..." he said softly, clearly lost in his own fantasy now.

"I'm going to tease you," Gil whispered into the other's ear, nipping his ear lobe and tracing the shell with his tongue.

Matt groaned, squeezing tighter on his erection. "W-Why are you telling me?" he breathed.

Gil didn't bother to answer. "Get off," he snapped suddenly.

Matt scrambled, violet eyes wide, and dropped to his knees in front of Gilbert, head bowed again. "S-Sir."

"Spread your legs. I want to look at you."

Gil knew Matt hated being in this particular position, but enforced it nevertheless.

His lower lip disappeared between his teeth again as he tentatively opened his thighs, resting his palms on his knees. His erection gave a half-hearted twitch and he lowered his head in embarrassment, eyes cast to the side.

"Look at me," the Prussian demanded. Slowly, violet eyes raised to meet his. "That's better." He stared the other down, only taking the chance to blink when the other looked away.

Matt's heart was pounding again, so hard, so loud in his own ears. He squirmed a bit in his nervousness, trying to get comfortable in a position that was never _meant_ to be comfortable. "S-Sir..."

"Hush." Gil braced an arm on his knees, resting his chin in his palm as he thought. What they wanted to do was something they'd only discussed a few times, and hadn't tried. There weren't many ways to ensure comfort— the strain on his lower back and abdomen would surely be awful, and Gilbert wanted to avoid that as much as he could. "Lay back. Keep your knees up."

Swallowing, Matt did as told. Gilbert walked to the wardrobe again and pulled open a drawer, taking out a self-warming silicone-based lubricant. It wasn't particularly their favorite kind, but with what he was about to undertake, he needed something that was sure to last.

He returned to the carpet, kneeling between Matt's legs and untying the twist tie holding a vibrator and remote together. He slicked up the plug, as well as a few fingers, and with some quick work, managed to loosen the other up enough to insert the torturous toy. Normally, he would ask if this felt good, but as he still had a green, he didn't bother.

Matt did his best to hold still, and of course, to not release the pressure building in his cock. He'd learned, early on, that orgasming without Gilbert's express permission resulted in a round of sounding, which was embarrassing because it hardly felt like a punishment until he could cry from the pressure. Despite how fast Gil was trying to move, Matt loved it, treating him as if he were an outlet in a wall instead of a man with a convenient orifice.

As Gil moved about their basement, pondering, he turned on the vibrator, low and slow. He smirked at Matt's gasp, contemplating how much to toy with him. He'd said he would tease him, but he needed him loose.

Fuck it.

He held down the button on the remote until the vibrator was on its top speed, slowly grinning as he heard Matthew's moans climb from a low, heady purr to a near—

Silence. ..._Almost_.

Gilbert immediately felt cheated. He stomped over to Matt and lightly kicked his thigh. "Stop biting your lip. If I see it again, you're getting whipped. And _not_ in the way you like."

The blond's face was so red he'd make the Devil himself proud, and the sob of pleasure that sailed out of his mouth had Gilbert needing to squeeze his own crotch. He watched Matt writhe on the floor, no doubt getting carpet burn... how his erection twitched and his abdomen clenched from the sheer effort of not—

"Don't cum."

"_A-AaaAHH!"_

Gil could hear how he was clearly struggling, the frustration evident in each beautifully sang note. He debated on whether a cock ring would help or hinder the situation...

But that was what this was about. Forcing Matt to struggle... and win.

He finally turned down the vibrations, to a more moderate level, letting the Canadian catch his breath. Gilbert nudged his side again with his shoe, glaring down at him. "Up," he commanded.

Matt looked at him with offended eyes, getting first to his knees, slowly, and then on his feet, visibly shaking. "Get on the bed," Gil continued.

It was as though with his every word, his voice dropped twelve degrees...

And it was so, _so_ exciting.

Matt went as carefully as he could over to the four-poster, the one area in the room they hardly used. He climbed on, jerking when Gil turned up the vibrator momentarily. "Aah!"

"Sh. Spread out."

Matt knew this command. He'd been well-trained. He put an arm on each of the two pillows, and extended his legs to the corners of the bed. He watched Gil select a bar, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, and couldn't help but moan in excitement. It was about eighteen inches wide, and it had the blond licking his lips.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the look on Gilbert's face, coarse and cold, did not match his movements. He took a throw pillow and gently lifted Matthew's hips to slide it under his lower back. Then he applied a bit of lotion to Matthew's smooth thighs before attaching the spreader bar, keeping his legs open. Gilbert had once called him a venus fly trap, and that was what resulted in the purchase of the spreader bars after the blond had bruised Gil's hip bones.

Carefully, the snow-haired man withdrew the plug, and Matt flushed in embarrassment at the noise he heard after it was fully removed. "It's fine," Gil murmured, not even needing to look at the other's face to know what was bothering him. He stood again, leaving Matthew empty, and went to grab a steel tray to set by the bed. On it he placed the lubricant from before, a moderately sized phallus, and after a moment of contemplation, his sheathed knife. It felt as though he were preparing for an operation, and he supposed he was, in a way.

He was so excited, but he resisted touching himself. He slicked up the toy with quick hands, glad that the lubricant was warming, and gave Matt a quick glance before positioning it, licking his lips. He pushed it in, watching how the male's body opened before him, and he smirked when he saw Matt's legs try to snap together. Yes, the bar had been a good investment.

"Haaahh..."

He considered gagging him again, but this was something new, and he needed to hear how Matt was doing through every step of the process. He kept pushing, steadily at first, and then became very impatient, suddenly shoving it in the rest of the way.

"_Uunh, fuck!_"

He'd hit that wonderful bundle of nerves, and watched as a stream of precum slid down Matt's upright shaft. "You're doing so good," he praised, rubbing the inside of the blond's thigh. He shifted his weight, trying to relieve the tension in his own cock. Usually such foul language would merit a smack, but again... they were trying something new, and as much as his palm itched to make sharp contact, he needed to be lenient.

Gil gave the other some time to adjust before beginning the painstaking task of moving it. He pumped it slowly in and out, careful not to push too hard against his prostate— as fun as that usually was, it would be just cruel, especially then.

After a few moments of simply listening to Matthew's pained keening, he just let the toy sit in him. He reached onto the tray for his knife, thinking of ways to make this easier. He examined the blade and handle... the handle.

Ivory, mostly smooth...

Yes.

He slicked it up and held the sheathed end in his hand before taking the end of the toy in and pushing to the side, trying to make even the smallest bit of space to add. He set the cool handle on the edge of the blond's hole and very carefully pushed it in alongside the phallus. The handle wasn't exactly narrow, closer to the diameter of a double-A battery, but Matt felt it.

"O-_Oh_, my GOD...!"

Gilbert's head shot up. "Okay?" he asked hoarsely, becoming increasingly more aroused.

"Yesyesyes, it's great, Sir, it's awesome..."

Gilbert smiled, glad for that bit of encouragement, a rare occurrence for him in this room.

He started pumping again, murmuring every now and again how wonderful Matt was doing, how he was so pleased, how he was perfect...

But nothing could come close to how it felt to see his greatest tool pleasuring the Canadian almost as much as it had pleasured _him_ before. The ivory was beautiful, smooth as marble, and only looked better there inside his greatest masterpiece.

Soon, moving the two became too easy. He slipped in a few of the fingers from the hand holding the two implements, attempting to get Matt as loose as he could handle.

Carefully, he withdrew his fingers, then the knife, and lastly the implement. The blond whimpered, again clenching his legs against the bar.

Gil examined the other's face as he slowly pushed down his trousers and briefs, stepping off the bed to discard them in a pile. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly going dry. His stomach gave a flip as he stood beside Matthew, taking the lined cuff on the post of the bed and latching it onto the male's wrist. As he reached across Matt's face to grab the other one, he felt a tongue trace a thin path along his abdomen.

"Nnn..." he groaned, briefly falling back into old habits. Then he was rigid again and barked, "Don't do that." The blond chuckled as the other cuff clicked into place, licking his teeth whorishly as he took in Gilbert's body.

The Prussian threw him a sharp glance as he assumed his position between the other's legs, easily pushing himself in. He allowed himself a few languid rolls of his hips, feeling how smoothly he slid in the other. Pulling out, he slicked himself up, and then, taking the phallus in hand again, lubricating it as well. Once he pushed into the hilt, he took the toy and nudged it teasingly over where their bodies met.

Matt's eyes widened, as if finally understanding, and his cock gave a strong twitch.

All Gilbert did was nod, and the Canadian began to relax each muscle in his body. Carefully, the white-haired man began to push the toy in, directly beneath his own prick, doing it somewhat quickly to get past that first ring of muscle. He hissed, clenching his jaw and head lolling back. The friction was absolutely unbelievable.

"Yellow," Matt cried.

Gilbert's cheeks reddened. He'd jumped the gun. He knew better than to rush, at least with Mattie. Keeping his lower half in check, he reached out and ran a hand appraisingly over the male's nipples, trailing his fingers down his abdomen to the gauze protecting his previous work, briefly over his still straining erection, and over his hip, waiting.

Violet eyes fell closed, and Gil felt the bar between Matt's legs stop pushing so insistently against his stomach. They breathed slowly, and Gil bowed his head, feeling himself throbbing wantonly in the other.

"Green," the blond sighed, and Gil exhaled in a short puff.

With an incredibly steady hand, he urged the toy in farther, spitting out increasingly obscene curses as it pushed against him.

Then it was in, and Matt had two rods leaning into his sweet spot. The blood surged through him like mercury, and Gilbert was privileged to watch as Matthew turned red from cheeks to ears to neck and down the top of his chest, like a thermometer.

"How does it feel, Matthew?" Gil asked in an impressively calm voice.

"I... I _don't know_," Matt mewled, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips.

"Yes, you do. How does it feel?" Gilbert repeated, with a little less patience.

The male's breath came out in shudders. "S—" He took yet another moment to collect himself. "S-so good, Sir, so good... Tight..."

The Prussian's smile dripped with arrogant pride, and with those words in mind, he held tighter to the end of the toy and began to move it, pulling it out and then pushing it in as he rolled back his hips, almost as if he were cranking a wheel. Matthew just kept squeezing tighter and tighter on him, choking him until he felt faint with it, and then—

"Ah, _fuck_...!"

He came so gracefully that Matt would have openly worshiped him, were they in any other position.

But they weren't.

And there was no cause to worry. Matthew knew that, with Gilbert Beilschmidt in control, they were both likely to cum over and over again, with barely a breath in between, until it hurt.

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><p><strong>AN: Is this what you two were wanting? I look forward to hearing back from you.  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here lies the new chapter. I hope you enjoy. WARNING: Contains hot wax and edging.**

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><p>He knew better than to beg.<p>

It didn't stop him from doing it.

Even Gilbert's withering stare couldn't keep him from doing it. He'd take any punishment, endure any torture, anything at all, if he could just—

"A-aah, Sir..." he breathed, water trickling from the corners of his eyes from the strain.

"'Sir, I'll do anything,'" Gilbert mimicked, brows furrowed and teeth bared as he plunged into him again. He'd only found the switch to turn the toy on a few minutes ago, but it had been soon enough.

He wanted to see how far Mattie was willing to go to get what he wanted. Only one word was missing.

Matthew groaned sobbingly, feeling how his release threatened against the surface. "_Sir!"_

Gilbert chuckled darkly, reaching down to run taunting fingers over the blond's reddened erection. The male immediately grit his teeth, clenching hard against the bar between his thighs, pinkened around the leather cuffs.

"Count for me," Gilbert said softly, lightly dragging his fingernails over the other's abdomen. He loved to play this game, where he could use the Canadian's body as he wanted and force him to fail. "Slowly. Quietly..." He slid his hands down Matthew's sides, over his hips and down his smooth, shaven legs. He peeked over his shoulder and smirked at how the blond's toes curled into the sheets. Carefully, he brushed his pearl-white hair of his sweaty forehead. "And steadily."

Matthew was practically seeing stars. His cock was on fire, his thighs were sore but he _could not_ stop trying to slam them shut and he flinched _every time_, and he could feel Gilbert's breath over his sweaty skin even from down there... It was as if he were drowning in a hot tub, too much at once and no foreseeable way out. Yet, through all of the quicksilver flooding in his member and all of the blood rushing in his ears, he heard the command.

He paled for a moment, eyes pricking. He hated this.

"One... two... _three!_"

Gilbert pinched his nipple there.

"...Four... five... six... seven... eight... E-eight... Nnnngh..."

The Prussian pumped into his ass roughly a few times, just to throw him off.

"Not fair!" Matthew whimpered.

"You failed."

He could have cried. He almost did. He felt Gilbert starting to pull back, maybe to slam into him again, but then he felt the other's tip starting to leave him.

"No, Sir, please don't...!"

And after the man had withdrawn, the toy slipped out so very easily.

Gilbert personally hated being more exposed than necessary. He pulled his boxer briefs back on and strode confidently the short distance to the wardrobe, taking a pair of chocolate-brown leather gloves and pulling them on, reaching just to his wrist. Then he grabbed a long paraffin votive and a silver Zippo lighter.

Matthew watched him with wide, glistening eyes. Red irises focused hard on him, dilating further into black orbs. He licked his lips, taking in Gilbert's marble-like skin. He knew that, if he ever were to have control, he would be covering Him in wax.

Gilbert stood by the bed, candle in hand, and carefully lit the votive, watching as it quickly melted and pooled in the divet of the candle. He held it about a foot or so over Matthew's chest and slowly, slowly, tipped it to the side, letting it pour.

"_Uuuhhn..."_

It was so hot. And so _hot_. He licked his lips, training his eyes on Gilbert's gloved hands. He had never seen a man with such beautiful hands, he was sure.

The sting left almost as quickly as it had come, and it appeared again, just under his left nipple. He screwed his eyes shut, and then relaxed as it cooled.

"I don't understand why it's so difficult for you to say..." He trailed the melting wax down his sternum, stopping just before the gauze over his navel. "You'd feel so much better. You could cum. I'd even allow you to touch yourself tomorrow, if you wanted. But that's not what's going to happen, hm?"

Matthew felt like such a child, lip trembling even though Gilbert hadn't raised his voice at all since they'd began. He turned his head into the pillow, and immediately, leather-covered fingers fisted into his hair to turn him back..

"Look at me when I am speaking to you, Matthew."

"Yes, Sir."

The wax heated his hip bone, and then it started to drip toward his shaven crotch, making him shake with nervousness. Gilbert wouldn't... would he?

"Why won't you say it? It's one word. You never say it for me. If you would give me that, I would reward you in any way you wanted." He turned the candle upright just as he was approaching the blond's erection. "Anything at all."

The blond's face turned a shade fit to rival volcanic lava. So humiliating. It was sitting on the tip of his tongue and it tasted like acid. He would find any loophole. Giving in to Gilbert in the way He wanted was the last thing Matthew would do.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "I see you thinking. What do you want to say to me, Mattie?"

He swallowed and licked his lips, hardly paying attention to where wax hardened on his thigh now. "May I cum for you, Sir?"

The Prussian growled, yanking his hair again. The male felt every follicle in the other's grasp.

"Ow! S-Sir..."

"You know that's not what I asked for. You're disappointing me, Mattie. Do you want to disappoint me?"

Matt meant to shake his head, but again the pin pricks pushed into his scalp. "No, Sir..."

"Then why do you disobey me?"

_Disobey_. It shouldn't have shocked him to hear that word. From where he was floating in needy space, the one word rang like a death toll.

_Disobey_. _I'm disobeying my Sir._

He blinked glistening eyes. "I don't mean to."

"You want me to make you do what I want. But Matthew, I can only do so much." His voice had taken on a soft, loving whisper, and it made the Canadian feel an unwelcome guilt. "But you have a choice. Even if I want to, I can't make you..." He caressed Matt's cheek, sliding his hand down his neck and wrapping it around to pinch his airway, but not as hard as he could have.

_Yes you can. You can make me, especially when you take away my ability to call red. _He felt his head become light, and then a burning in his chest as if he had inhaled a tall glass of fire.

Gilbert saw the obstinence leave his eyes and knew he had won. Slowly, he let up his grasp. "Do you want to cum?" he inquired casually, indifferently, coldly, as he dragged fingers along the underside of the blond's shaft.

Matt thrusted up into Gilbert's hand, unable to stop the instinctual reaction. "Yes, Sir, _yes_. _Please_," the Canadian spat bitterly, "may I cum for you?"

Gilbert grinned triumphantly. "Yes. You may."

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><p><strong>AN: I'm really enjoying writing this. Please continue to flood me with suggestions. To AwesomeGuest, apologies for the lack of suspension. I am still researching this subject. The temperature-play was also meant to involve ice, but I've already established that Matt doesn't like being down in the basement alone, and I didn't want to conveniently say that there was a mini-fridge where they play?  
><strong>

**Brief poll. I would love your responses: What other types of chapters would you like to see?  
><strong>

**1) Public humiliation**

**2) Desperation (public or otherwise- please state which you prefer)**

**3) Aftercare (a staple in all D/s relationships)**

**4) Subdrop/Domdrop. These are rarely featured in fanfiction but are still a part of D/s life. If you aren't familiar with the terms, feel free to PM me, and I'll fill you in.**

**5) Background/flashback to how they got started in this/trying new things/how they came up with their traffic light safe word system. If you have a headcanon or suggestion in regards to this, do share! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: D: This turned out a lot shorter than I thought. Oopsies. Please forgive me. It feels like the chapters are getting progressively shorter.**

**To my lovely lovely Awesome Guest_,__there is no subdrop_ in this chapter. Just aftercare.  
><strong>

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><p>Matt was disgusted with himself. He'd orgasmed heavily before, but edging was still something new, and this was the farthest they'd gone and the most he'd cum. It was on the sheets, on his abdomen, on his thighs... and it was cold and <em>disgusting<em>.

Gilbert looked at him knowingly and ran a hand through his hair. "I got excited, Mattie. I didn't bring down any towels. I'm going to go to the bathroom upstairs and get one. Is that okay?"

Matt nodded tiredly. "Yeah." Gilbert ran immediately to the staircase, bounding up a few before putting his hands in his hair again.

He hadn't even thought to remove the bar or the cuffs. Shaking his head, he continued on his way, striding into the bathroom and turning on the hot tap, to the closet for two cloths and a towel, and to the bedroom to grab the plaid pajama pants that Matthew had obviously stolen from _his_ drawer. Matthew listened to the other stomping around on the floor above him and smiled.

His own personal stampede.

Gilbert returned a few minutes later and sat down on the edge of his bed, the hands that had so easily overpowered him now as gentle as a snow rabbit's paw. He wiped over where Matthew had covered himself. Setting the soiled cloth on the steel tray from earlier, he smoothed back the blond's hair.

The Canadian opened his mouth to speak and promptly caught himself. _Gil_, he was about to say. However, until the bonds were off, Gil was still Sir.

"Sir, if it would please you, would you remove the bar?"

Gilbert flushed and scrambled to kneel between Matt' still-spread legs. He clenched his jaw when he saw where his seed was sliding down thigh and ass cheek. He raised a finger to Matt as he reached over him to the tray. Both rags were luckily still hot. He gently pulled the damp cloth over the other's rear and replaced it on the metal. Then, with lotion in hand, he un-belted the leather from around Matthew's thighs, massaging in lotion where he had chafed. He applied the same treatment to his wrists, taking the time to massage not only the wrist, but fingers and palm as well.

Matt breathed deeply, as if under hypnosis simply from observing the Prussian before him. As he let the man's thumbs work the flesh of his tired hands, breath hitching when he pressed into where Matt had apparently dug his nails, he rolled his ankles and wiggled his toes, slowly sliding his legs into a more straightened position. Would they discuss? Well, they always discussed. But who would start?

Matt swallowed roughly and Gilbert noticed right away.

Fuck.

Electrolytes.

Matt needed electrolytes in his system. He always forgot. Somewhere around there... Red eyes scanned the room searchingly. Then, he realized. The case under the bed.

Sliding off the edge of the mattress, Gilbert knelt on the rug and reached under the bed skirt for the case of yellow Gatorade. He pulled out the little bag of straws as well and prepared the drink with practiced ease. Again, he sat down on the bed, close to Matt, but not close enough to be in contact with his body, and offered the bottle to the other.

"Drink?" Gil asked softly. Matt lifted himself and parted his bruised lips, taking the light green straw into his mouth.

As he drank, Gil examined his body. Soft fingers carded through his hair, massaged his scalp, tugged at points on his head that would help loosen his muscles. It pulled a yawn from his chest.

The corner of the man's mouth upturned as he moved away. He had always been shy about showing Matthew his smile. "You were so great..." he murmured as he took the scalpel from the table and removed the protective sheath. He knelt beside the bed and took the edge of the knife, setting it just behind a pat of hardened wax. Placing a hand on Matt's hip, he began scraping it off.

"Hmmm~"

Gilbert looked up at him with a quirked brow. "What?"

Matt blushed, but smiled happily. "I like when you touch me, Gil."

The Prussian paused, placing a hand over his mouth to stifle laughter. Matthew had a knack for coming down as if he were high as a kite, or even intoxicated, and his mind-filter wouldn't exist for a while. There was no telling what would come out of his mouth.

"I like that you like when I touch you," he answered after collecting himself.

Behind the removed wax, the other's skin was red. Gilbert brushed his pink lips over each area as it was revealed, applying a soothing lotion afterwards. His brow was furrowed as he fretted— how soon was too soon to debrief him? He knew that he wouldn't have Matthew as honest as this any other time. At least, not until after their next bout. Steeling himself with a clenched jaw, Gilbert opened his mouth.

"Can you talk to me while I work?" he asked, instantly wincing at how insensitive he'd sounded. Warily, he cast a glance at the blond's face. Matthew was a bit more touchy in this state, but not quite _that_ touchy.

"Yeah," he breathed, sighing contentedly again. "Your lips feel very good on me," he mused aloud. Where he normally would have blushed, he simply brushed his hair out of his face and flashed a glimmer of a smile at the albino.

The man kissed his hip where the last pool of wax was removed. "Good... S-So," he began again, clearing his throat. "Did you like having two?"

He watched the wheels turn in Matt's head. "Two...?" He chewed his lip as he pondered. "_Oh... Two._ Yes. It was a little scary—," his heart sped up at the very memory, "but the _good_ kind of scary."

Gilbert nodded, taking in that statement. "Why not just tell me everything you liked?"

He heard Matthew take a deep breath, felt him hunker down into the sheets (that very much needed to be changed).

"I liked that you respected when I called yellow." _You usually don't, _he wanted to add, _even though I know it will get better if you keep going_. "And when you kissed me... And marked me... There wasn't much I didn't enjoy..."

Gilbert heard it in the Canadian's voice. "But...?"

Matt swallowed. "You kept me on edge for a seriously long time. I know it's not exactly meant to feel good but I don't know if I've ever been that miserable in your hands before."

He mulled that over, instantly feeling guilty. Helping Matt into his pajama pants, Gilbert said, "I will try to be more conscientious of where you are from now on. Thank you." As the blond sat up, Gil leaned in to brush their lips together, slowly peeking his tongue out in asking, and then kissing him slowly, sensually.

When at last they could breathe, the blond lay his head on the Prussian's shoulder. "Sleep? Upstairs?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure, Mattie."

"On the couch?" he pressed.

Gilbert looked at him pointedly. "Not in the bedroom?"

"Huh-uh."

He rolled his eyes. "Why do you always want the couch, Matt? Don't you get hot, like that?"

Matthew outright laughed. "Hot? No, no. It's perfect. And it gives me an excuse to touch you and be on you and snuggle you and feel you breathing. I like that."

Put that way, could he really deny him?

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><p><strong>AN: *Vomits* That was just too sweet. Not to sound full of myself, but I feel like I just created a sugar cream cupcake of a chapter with sweet cream icing, topped with sprinkles and confectioner's sugar.  
><strong>

**...Ew.**

**Wellp, fluff never _has_ been my strong suit.**

**I hope this was an accurate portrayal of aftercare, albeit short. Of course, I am still taking suggestions, kinky or otherwise, and it doesn't have to be original. You can elaborate on someone else's suggestion too! Thanks for reading.  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It's been a while. Hi guys! I was just waiting for a new idea, and luckily, someone left a review with one.**

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><p>Any other day, and he would have let him get away with it.<p>

However, it was Friday, just past five o' clock. There was no excusing it.

Gilbert loomed over the bed, where Matthew lay napping, chest rising and falling slowly. He made quite the pretty picture, didn't he...?

Yet, there was no dinner on the table, or the stove, and no nearly-nude Matthew kneeling at the door. Their evening had hardly begun and Matthew had already fucked up royally.

And Gil was starving.

He quietly padded out of the bedroom and down the basement stairs, striding to the bureau to search for a means of punishment.

His stomach growled less than quietly.

Whatever punishment he chose, it would have to be mobile. Matthew was no five-star chef and any meal started now would still take at least an hour to finish preparing.

He picked up floggers, whips, toys, setting all aside. None of these would work. Then he found the package— unopened, glistening in the plastic casing. He took it out and held it in the light to better appreciate it. A pair of tabby cat ears, attached to some light string to conceal in the hair... and a long clip-on tail, meant to attach to the back belt loop of some pants.

He distinctly remembered gifting these to Matt, and he could tell how much the other disliked it.

Maybe not _dislike_, per se, but how he foresaw his embarrassment.

It was perfect.

He pulled out a drawer to grab a vibrating dildo with a wireless remote.

Dinner... Dinner was going to be fun.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the micro-chapter. I just thought since it had been a while, you would appreciate something here to let you know I haven't abandoned this story. As always, reviews are appreciated. It's like a vending machine: you put in a little review, maybe with a request, and I vend out a good arc in the story. :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Jesus this is getting long. I might not continue for much longer, peeps. Chapters keep getting shorter and shorter it feels like, and I would hate to post something I couldn't say was my best. I will definitely finish up my latest request. We'll see what happens from there.**

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><p>"M-Mmm..."<p>

Gilbert quirked a brow at him in the rear-view mirror. His cheeks were as red as his previously spanked ass. Matthew hated riding in the back seat, knowing he'd been "demoted" for the weekend. He shifted uncomfortably again, trying to shift the phallus inside him so it wasn't so... _dead on_. However, this had yet to work.

The snow-haired man smirked inwardly. And the tabby cat ears weren't so bad either.

"Where are we going to dinner?" he mewled.

Gil chuckled. "Some French joint. 'Le Figaro', I think is what it's called. You'll have to help me order, you know."

Matthew's eyes stung. He hated ordering for himself, let alone Sir. And he hated speaking French around a man who thought it was childish.

Of course, Gilbert did not actually think that. He had a severe kink for languages, and the evening's plans were about pleasing _him_, not Matthew. At least, not for the moment.

He took the remote slyly out of his pocket and bumped it up a few notches. The reaction was almost instantaneous.

"_Nnnn! Dammit, Gil!"_

"'Dammit... _Gil_?" His face was suddenly void of all emotion as he eyed the other through the mirror.

He nearly came in his slacks.

Matthew was arching hard against the seat, hands dutifully on his thighs but clenching so hard on his trousers the Prussian feared they would rip. His hair was sticking to his forehead, the ears sticking up ramrod straight, his body shaking with the effort to not release.

He rolled down Matthew's window and turned the toy back down as they neared the parking lot. "Breathe, Mattie. I won't have you making an embarrassment of yourself in there."

The glare that centered on him could have fried an egg, but Gilbert was indifferent. They had a dinner to eat... and some ordering to do.

Seated in the restaurant, Gilbert turned the toy down to its lowest setting. Matthew breathed out in a rush, immediately grateful. He took the menu from their waiter with only a slightly shaking hand and gawked at the prices for a moment before he caught himself. Sir was paying. Sir could afford it.

A finger was suddenly tilting his menu down away from his face. Gil stared at him, and Matthew wondered if he'd been staring for a while. "Y-Yes, Sir?"

"You're ordering our dinner in French."

"Why would I when it's printed in English— _O-Ooohhh..._" His eyes watered immediately. It felt so good, pressing against his sweet spot, nice and slow and steady.

"If it pleases Sir, I will do it." He crossed his legs under the table, squeezing tight. Gilbert picked up on it. The Venus Fly Trap was back full force— bound to be fun later in the evening.

He casually pointed at Matt's menu, first to the french onion soup, and then to a $63.95 dinner for two: beef tenderloin with vegetables in a béarnaise sauce. He was skipping the wine, as he preferred his harder liquor back at their home, and while he knew Mattie would prefer wine, he would be drinking what Gilbert was drinking as well.

The waiter appeared, a bit scruffy on the chin and hair in a small ponytail. "_Bonsoir_, my friends. May I start you off with a drink?" he asked, eyeing the two of them. He lingered on Matthew until his eyes suddenly bugged out.

He gave Matthew the up-down, which Gilbert caught instantaneously. "Mattieu. It's been some time."

Matthew reddened, and, feeling pissed, Gilbert made a show of reaching towards his pocket under the table. The blond bit his lip, eyes downcast. "_Bonsoir. Nous voudrons commander toutes les choses, s'il vous pla__ît."_

The waiter, Francis, cocked a brow. "_Bon ben... Qu'est-ce que vous voudrez?"_

"_Moi, pour boire... je voudrais de l'eau. Il boira le même."_

"_D'accord."_

Gilbert's lips parted as he listened to the exchange, shifting slightly in his seat.

"_Pour manger, nous avons le chateaubriand à la Jardinière."_

It was so entirely attractive, to hear such sensual sounds leave Mattie's lips, and yet all he was doing was ordering their dinner. He slipped the remote out of his pocket rather inconspicuously and pressed the button twice.

Matthew moaned softly, daintily placing a hand over his lips to keep himself quiet. "Uuuuhh... and we—"

Gil kicked his shin with his shoe under the table, bringing the other to jump slightly in his seat and immediately sigh in unwanted pleasure.

"_E-Et nous... nous voudrons notre viande à bien cuit, monsieur."_

Francis eyed Gilbert warily, trying to peer under the table from where he stood and as discreetly as possible.

He had a pretty good idea of what was happening.

He flipped a page of his notepad over, scrawling a few words though it looked as if he were simply finishing up their order. When Matthew closed his eyes, mouth parted and leg bouncing up and down under the tablecloth, Francis tore the paper off and set it on top of Gilbert's napkin.

_Keep that up for much longer and no setting will be low enough to keep him from cumming._

He nodded to the two of them and said, "Your food will arrive in a few moments. Until then, I will bring you fresh bread and butter."

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! See you in the next chapter maybe! Despite what I've said I will still consider any requests given. :)**


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